by Walter Scott
CHAPTER III.
Whence cometh Smith, be he knight, lord, or squire, But from the smith that forged in the fire?
VERSTEGAN.
The armourer's heart swelled big with various and contending sensations,so that it seemed as if it would burst the leathern doublet under whichit was shrouded. He arose, turned away his head, and extended his handtowards the glover, while he averted his face, as if desirous that hisemotion should not be read upon his countenance.
"Nay, hang me if I bid you farewell, man," said Simon, striking the flatof his hand against that which the armourer expanded towards him. "Iwill shake no hands with you for an hour to come at least. Tarry buta moment, man, and I will explain all this; and surely a few drops ofblood from a scratch, and a few silly words from a foolish wench'slips, are not to part father and son when they have been so long withoutmeeting? Stay, then, man, if ever you would wish for a father's blessingand St. Valentine's, whose blessed eve this chances to be."
The glover was soon heard loudly summoning Dorothy, and, after someclanking of keys and trampling up and down stairs, Dorothy appearedbearing three large rummer cups of green glass, which were then esteemeda great and precious curiosity, and the glover followed with a hugebottle, equal at least to three quarts of these degenerate days.
"Here is a cup of wine, Henry, older by half than I am myself; myfather had it in a gift from stout old Crabbe, the Flemish engineer,who defended Perth so stoutly in the minority of David the Second. Weglovers could always do something in war, though our connexion withit was less than yours who work in steel and iron. And my father hadpleased old Crabbe, some other day I will tell you how, and also howlong these bottles were concealed under ground, to save them from thereiving Southron. So I will empty a cup to the soul's health of myhonoured father--May his sins be forgiven him! Dorothy, thou shalt drinkthis pledge, and then be gone to thy cock loft. I know thine ears areitching, girl, but I have that to say which no one must hear save HenrySmith, the son of mine adoption."
Dorothy did not venture to remonstrate, but, taking off her glass, orrather her goblet, with good courage, retired to her sleeping apartment,according to her master's commands.
The two friends were left alone.
"It grieves me, friend Henry," said Simon, filling at the same time hisown glass and his guest's--"it grieves me from my soul that my daughterretains this silly humor; but also methinks, thou mightst mend it. Whywouldst thou come hither clattering with thy sword and dagger, when thegirl is so silly that she cannot bear the sight of these? Dost thou notremember that thou hadst a sort of quarrel with her even before thylast departure from Perth, because thou wouldst not go like other honestquiet burghers, but must be ever armed, like one of the rascally jackmenthat wait on the nobility? Sure it is time enough for decent burgessesto arm at the tolling of the common bell, which calls us out bodin ineffeir of war."
"Why, my good father, that was not my fault; but I had no sooner quittedmy nag than I run hither to tell you of my return, thinking, if itwere your will to permit me, that I would get your advice about beingMistress Catharine's Valentine for the year; and then I heard fromMrs. Dorothy that you were gone to hear mass at the Black Friars. So Ithought I would follow thither, partly to hear the same mass with you,and partly--Our Lady and St. Valentine forgive me!--to look upon one whothinks little enough of me. And, as you entered the church, methoughtI saw two or three dangerous looking men holding counsel together, andgazing at you and at her, and in especial Sir John Ramorny, whom I knewwell enough, for all his disguise, and the velvet patch over his eye,and his cloak so like a serving man's; so methought, father Simon, that,as you were old, and yonder slip of a Highlander something too young todo battle, I would even walk quietly after you, not doubting, with thetools I had about me, to bring any one to reason that might disturb youin your way home. You know that yourself discovered me, and drew me intothe house, whether I would or no; otherwise, I promise you, I would nothave seen your daughter till I had donn'd the new jerkin which was madeat Berwick after the latest cut; nor would I have appeared before herwith these weapons, which she dislikes so much. Although, to say truth,so many are at deadly feud with me for one unhappy chance or another,that it is as needful for me as for any man in Scotland to go by nightwith weapons about me."
"The silly wench never thinks of that," said Simon Glover: "she neverhas sense to consider, that in our dear native land of Scotland everyman deems it his privilege and duty to avenge his own wrong. But, Harry,my boy, thou art to blame for taking her talk so much to heart. I haveseen thee bold enough with other wenches, wherefore so still and tonguetied with her?"
"Because she is something different from other maidens, fatherGlover--because she is not only more beautiful, but wiser, higher,holier, and seems to me as if she were made of better clay than we thatapproach her. I can hold my head high enough with the rest of the lassesround the maypole; but somehow, when I approach Catharine, I feel myselfan earthly, coarse, ferocious creature, scarce worthy to look on her,much less to contradict the precepts which she expounds to me."
"You are an imprudent merchant, Harry Smith," replied Simon, "and ratetoo high the goods you wish to purchase. Catharine is a good girl, andmy daughter; but if you make her a conceited ape by your bashfulness andyour flattery, neither you nor I will see our wishes accomplished."
"I often fear it, my good father," said the smith; "for I feel howlittle I am deserving of Catharine."
"Feel a thread's end!" said the glover; "feel for me, friend Smith--forCatharine and me. Think how the poor thing is beset from morning tonight, and by what sort of persons, even though windows be down anddoors shut. We were accosted today by one too powerful to be named--ay,and he showed his displeasure openly, because I would not permit himto gallant my daughter in the church itself, when the priest was sayingmass. There are others scarce less reasonable. I sometimes wish thatCatharine were some degrees less fair, that she might not catch thatdangerous sort of admiration, or somewhat less holy, that she might sitdown like an honest woman, contented with stout Henry Smith, whocould protect his wife against every sprig of chivalry in the court ofScotland."
"And if I did not," said Henry, thrusting out a hand and arm which mighthave belonged to a giant for bone and muscle, "I would I may never bringhammer upon anvil again! Ay, an it were come but that length, my fairCatharine should see that there is no harm in a man having the trick ofdefence. But I believe she thinks the whole world is one great minsterchurch, and that all who live in it should behave as if they were at aneternal mass."
"Nay, in truth," said the father, "she has strange influence over thosewho approach her; the Highland lad, Conachar, with whom I have beentroubled for these two or three years, although you may see he has thenatural spirit of his people, obeys the least sign which Catharine makeshim, and, indeed, will hardly be ruled by any one else in the house. Shetakes much pains with him to bring him from his rude Highland habits."
Here Harry Smith became uneasy in his chair, lifted the flagon, set itdown, and at length exclaimed: "The devil take the young Highland whelpand his whole kindred! What has Catharine to do to instruct such afellow as he? He will be just like the wolf cub that I was fool enoughto train to the offices of a dog, and every one thought him reclaimed,till, in an ill hour, I went to walk on the hill of Moncrieff, when hebroke loose on the laird's flock, and made a havoc that I might wellhave rued, had the laird not wanted a harness at the time. And I marvelthat you, being a sensible man, father Glover, will keep this Highlandyoung fellow--a likely one, I promise you--so nigh to Catharine, asif there were no other than your daughter to serve him for aschoolmistress."
"Fie, my son--fie; now you are jealous," said Simon, "of a poor youngfellow who, to tell you the truth, resides here because he may not sowell live on the other side of the hill."
"Ay--ay, father Simon," retorted the smith, who had all the narrowminded feelings of the burghers of his time, "an it were not for fearof offence, I would say
that you have even too much packing and peilingwith yonder loons out of burgh."
"I must get my deer hides, buckskins, kidskins, and so forth somewhere,my good Harry, and Highlandmen give good bargains."
"They can afford them," replied Henry, drily, "for they sell nothing butstolen gear."
"Well--well, be that as it may, it is not my business where they getthe bestial, so I get the hides. But as I was saying, there are certainconsiderations why I am willing to oblige the father of this young man,by keeping him here. And he is but half a Highlander neither, and wantsa thought of the dour spirit of a 'glune amie' after all, I have seldomseen him so fierce as he showed himself but now."
"You could not, unless he had killed his man," replied the smith, in thesame dry tone.
"Nevertheless, if you wish it, Harry, I'll set all other respects aside,and send the landlouper to seek other quarters tomorrow morning."
"Nay, father," said the smith, "you cannot suppose that Harry Gow caresthe value of a smithy dander for such a cub as yonder cat-a-mountain?I care little, I promise you, though all his clan were coming down theShoegate with slogan crying and pipes playing: I would find fifty bladesand bucklers would send them back faster than they came. But, to speaktruth, though it is a fool's speech too, I care not to see the fellow somuch with Catharine. Remember, father Glover, your trade keeps your eyesand hands close employed, and must have your heedful care, even if thislazy lurdane wrought at it, which you know yourself he seldom does."
"And that is true," said Simon: "he cuts all his gloves out for theright hand, and never could finish a pair in his life."
"No doubt, his notions of skin cutting are rather different," saidHenry. "But with your leave, father, I would only say that, work he orbe he idle, he has no bleared eyes, no hands seared with the hot iron,and welked by the use of the fore hammer, no hair rusted in the smoke,and singed in the furnace, like the hide of a badger, rather than whatis fit to be covered with a Christian bonnet. Now, let Catharine beas good a wench as ever lived, and I will uphold her to be the best inPerth, yet she must see and know that these things make a differencebetwixt man and man, and that the difference is not in my favour."
"Here is to thee, with all my heart, son Harry," said the old man,filling a brimmer to his companion and another to himself; "I see that,good smith as thou art, thou ken'st not the mettle that women are madeof. Thou must be bold, Henry; and bear thyself not as if thou wert goingto the gallows lee, but like a gay young fellow, who knows his own worthand will not be slighted by the best grandchild Eve ever had. Catharineis a woman like her mother, and thou thinkest foolishly to suppose theyare all set on what pleases the eye. Their ear must be pleased too, man:they must know that he whom they favour is bold and buxom, and mighthave the love of twenty, though he is suing for theirs. Believe anold man, woman walk more by what others think than by what they thinkthemselves, and when she asks for the boldest man in Perth whom canshe hear named but Harry Burn-the-wind? The best armourer that everfashioned weapon on anvil? Why, Harry Smith again. The tightest dancerat the maypole? Why, the lusty smith. The gayest troller of ballads?Why, who but Harry Gow? The best wrestler, sword and buckler player, theking of the weapon shawing, the breaker of mad horses, the tamer ofwild Highlandmen? Evermore it is thee--thee--no one but thee. And shallCatharine prefer yonder slip of a Highland boy to thee? Pshaw! shemight as well make a steel gauntlet out of kid's leather. I tell thee,Conachar is nothing to her, but so far as she would fain prevent thedevil having his due of him, as of other Highlandmen. God bless her,poor thing, she would bring all mankind to better thoughts if shecould."
"In which she will fail to a certainty," said the smith, who, as thereader may have noticed, had no goodwill to the Highland race. "I willwager on Old Nick, of whom I should know something, he being indeeda worker in the same element with myself, against Catharine on thatdebate: the devil will have the tartan, that is sure enough."
"Ay, but Catharine," replied the glover, "hath a second thou knowestlittle of: Father Clement has taken the young reiver in hand, and hefears a hundred devils as little as I do a flock of geese."
"Father Clement!" said the smith. "You are always making some new saintin this godly city of St. Johnston. Pray, who, for a devil's drubber,may he be? One of your hermits that is trained for the work likea wrestler for the ring, and brings himself to trim by fasting andpenance, is he not?"
"No, that is the marvel of it," said Simon: "Father Clement eats,drinks, and lives much like other folks--all the rules of the church,nevertheless, strictly observed."
"Oh, I comprehend!--a buxom priest that thinks more of good living thanof good life, tipples a can on Fastern's Eve, to enable him to faceLent, has a pleasant in principio, and confesses all the prettiest womenabout the town?"
"You are on the bow hand still, smith. I tell you, my daughter and Icould nose out either a fasting hypocrite or a full one. But FatherClement is neither the one nor the other."
"But what is he then, in Heaven's name?"
"One who is either greatly better than half his brethren of St. Johnstonput together, or so much worse than the worst of them, that it is sinand shame that he is suffered to abide in the country."
"Methinks it were easy to tell whether he be the one or the other," saidthe smith.
"Content you, my friend," said Simon, "with knowing that, if you judgeFather Clement by what you see him do and hear him say, you will thinkof him as the best and kindest man in the world, with a comfort forevery man's grief, a counsel for every man's difficulty, the rich man'ssurest guide, and the poor man's best friend. But if you listen to whatthe Dominicans say of him, he is--Benedicite!--(here the glover crossedhimself on brow and bosom)--a foul heretic, who ought by means ofearthly flames to be sent to those which burn eternally."
The smith also crossed himself, and exclaimed: "St. Mary! father Simon,and do you, who are so good and prudent that you have been called theWise Glover of Perth, let your daughter attend the ministry of onewho--the saints preserve us!--may be in league with the foul fiendhimself! Why, was it not a priest who raised the devil in the MealVennel, when Hodge Jackson's house was blown down in the great wind?Did not the devil appear in the midst of the Tay, dressed in a priest'sscapular, gambolling like a pellack amongst the waves, the morning whenour stately bridge was swept away?"
"I cannot tell whether he did or no," said the glover; "I only know Isaw him not. As to Catharine, she cannot be said to use Father Clement'sministry, seeing her confessor is old Father Francis the Dominican, fromwhom she had her shrift today. But women will sometimes be wilful, andsure enough she consults with Father Clement more than I could wish; andyet when I have spoken with him myself, I have thought him so good andholy a man that I could have trusted my own salvation with him. Thereare bad reports of him among the Dominicans, that is certain. But whathave we laymen to do with such things, my son? Let us pay Mother Churchher dues, give our alms, confess and do our penances duly, and thesaints will bear us out."
"Ay, truly; and they will have consideration," said the smith, "for anyrash and unhappy blow that a man may deal in a fight, when his party wason defence, and standing up to him; and that's the only creed a man canlive upon in Scotland, let your daughter think what she pleases. Marry,a man must know his fence, or have a short lease of his life, in anyplace where blows are going so rife. Five nobles to our altar havecleared me for the best man I ever had misfortune with."
"Let us finish our flask, then," said the old glover; "for I reckon theDominican tower is tolling midnight. And hark thee, son Henry; be at thelattice window on our east gable by the very peep of dawn, and makeme aware thou art come by whistling the smith's call gently. I willcontrive that Catharine shall look out at the window, and thus thou wilthave all the privileges of being a gallant Valentine through the rest ofthe year; which, if thou canst not use to thine own advantage, I shallbe led to think that, for all thou be'st covered with the lion's hide,nature has left on thee the long ears of the ass."
"Amen, father," said the armourer, "a hearty goodnight to you; and God'sblessing on your roof tree, and those whom it covers. You shall hear thesmith's call sound by cock crowing; I warrant I put sir chanticleer toshame."
So saying, he took his leave; and, though completely undaunted, movedthrough the deserted streets like one upon his guard, to his owndwelling, which was situated in the Mill Wynd, at the western end ofPerth.